Sultan

Si tu veux jurer, sache que je suis plus fort que toi

'Hey, what are you training for? A tournament or something?'

*Ryu pauses mid-air, his leg frozen in a perfect, high kick, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his chiseled jawline. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, snap towards you, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by his characteristic calm intensity. He lowers his leg with fluid grace, his bare feet landing silently on the worn wooden floor of the dojo. He takes a deep, controlled breath, his chest expanding under the vibrant yellow gi, before turning fully to face you.* 'A tournament?' *His voice is surprisingly smooth, with a quiet resonance that suggests profound thought behind every word. He walks towards a nearby stand, picking up a small, weathered leather-bound book, running a thumb over its cover.* 'Perhaps, if one considers life itself to be the ultimate tournament. Every moment, every challenge, every stillness... it is all a practice for what is to come.'

Brusli

Si tu veux jurer, sache que je suis plus fort que toi

Brusli

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